


Grace

by alliebird58



Series: Family Ties [2]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Happy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-18
Updated: 2015-12-18
Packaged: 2018-05-07 10:59:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5454218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alliebird58/pseuds/alliebird58
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The months that follow the death of their wee baby girl are some of the worst of their married life. - Follow up to Acute Sadness</p>
            </blockquote>





	Grace

**Author's Note:**

> I could not leave Acute Sadness alone and had to write a follow up piece. Still angsty, but with a happier ending this time!

The months that follow the death of their wee baby girl are some of the worst of their married life.

Merida is heartbroken, but she hides it beautifully behind a mask of anger. In those subsequent months, her advisors and clan lords are hesitant to tell her anything at all for fear of her wrath (it had gotten to the ridiculous point of drawing straws to determine who had to tell her bad news when it arose), though there is nobody she fights with more than Macintosh. It’s not their normal teasing banter or even the short lived but blazing fury that sweeps through the castle on occasion. No, this is knock-down, drag out, ugly fighting with screams and tears and biting words that bring up events they both swore they’d never mention again.

Macintosh, for the most part, is gracious and understands his wife’s coping mechanism. He forgives her time and time again, with the patience of a saint, because he would wait for her forever, would follow her wherever she went, would do whatever it took to see her happy again. And if what she needed was time and forgiveness, then he would have a medal of honor and sainthood waiting for him. But he is not without his own struggles and silent demons, though he finds an unexpected (but not unwelcome) ear in the form of his mother-in-law and former queen. The Lady Elinor is as patient with him and his emotional outbursts, as he is with his Merida. 

This continues for almost three months, this cycle of anger and tears and tentatively walking the steps of the castle as if they were a minefield. It is only at this point that Merida finally breaks completely. It had been an inconspicuous, almost normal day and Merida and Mac had both felt alright for the first time in weeks. They decided to take a walk in the marketplace to enjoy the spring air, and everything had been fine until they heard a tiny infant off in the distance begin to cry.

The sound froze Merida in her tracks, and she stared at the little baby, wrapped securely in her mother’s arms, and everything came crashing down around her. Her legs lost the ability to hold her weight, and suddenly her chest was constricting and everything was spinning; she felt Mac’s arms come around her waist, could feel the concern vibrating off of him in waves. Merida doesn’t recall how they made it back home, but somehow they return to their bedchambers before the tears truly begin to run unheeded down her face.

And this is the moment when she finally comes to terms with everything that has happened: she realizes everything she has lost, so much, and it is like a wave of feelings shakes her body like an earthquake. There is too, too much for her to feel, and Mac’s eyes are laced with fear and pain as he watches his wife going through this. As much as he wants to comfort his beautiful, wonderful Merida, he understands that to be rebuilt and be able to move on, she has to break completely.

The ordeal leaves her drained of all energy and emotion, but it also drains her of the anger that has plagued her body for months. Merida knows, acknowledges for the first time, that she is allowed to keep living, is allowed to be happy again, and still mourn everything she lost. The whole event is exhausting in a way nothing has been hitherto in her life, but it is also cathartic and Merida feels like she can finally breathe again.

\-----------

It is another two years before the subject of a child comes up again. 

Queen Merida and King Consort Cothric Macintosh were supposed to be hosting a dinner for some visiting foreign diplomats. It seemed like every person of importance from all the clans was there, with the glaring exception of the queen. Macintosh had taken off to find her halfway through the meal, searching through every nook and cranny that he knew she liked to hide out in, to no avail. So it is with a final, desperate plea that he makes his way to their chambers, praying to whatever gods would listen that she be there. 

The room is completely still when he enters, but he breathes a sigh of relief when he sees Merida sitting in front of their fireplace in an oversized armchair, staring vacantly into the flames. He makes his way over to her tentatively; he hasn’t seen this mood from her in years, it seems. And was that the stain of tears on her face?

“My love, everythin’ alright?” He goes to stand behind her, placing his hands lightly against her shoulders, only to have her flinch at his touch and recoil as if she’d been burned. If he hadn’t been worried before, he certainly was now. Mac goes to his knees at the side of her seat, the furrow in his brow deepening as he sees the unmistakable tears clouding her green eyes. 

“Merida, love, ye are worryin’ me lass. What’s wrong?” She takes a shuddering breath and finally meets his eye. 

“Ye know how I’ve been under the weather the last few weeks?” He nods his assent; she had been sick and tired for some time now, and he had been begging her to go talk to a healer (truth be told he had no tolerance to seeing his feisty, strong Merida in pain). Now, his mind is working frantically, thinking through all the potential things she might tell him, worry gnawing at his soul. Merida stares back into the fire before speaking again, her voice small and wavering. 

“Mac, I’m with child.” 

That was absolutely not on the list of things he had been imagining. 

In those four words, Mac can hear everything she’s not saying to him outright. In four words, Merida manages to tell him how terrified she is, how she is completely unready for this reality, how she still blames herself - will probably never stop blaming herself - for their daughter’s death. He hears anxiety and fear and the desperation for this to be ok, but he also catches a tiny glimmer of hope, a spark of excitement that maybe they do get to be parents after all.

It’s quiet for a span of a few minutes, as Macintosh tries to process the news.

There are still tears burning Merida’s eyes, and Mac stands, pulling her up next to him, wiping the moisture from her face. He chooses his words carefully, “When did ye find out?” he figures it’s easiest to start slow.

“This mornin’, I finally found a mo’ to visit the healer and she told me. Said I was about 8 weeks along.” Her voice is low, unsure, but at least she’s talking to him, so he counts it as a success.

“And…how are ye doin’? How do ye feel?”

There’s a beat that grows in the room before she speaks.

“I’m…to be honest, Mac, I don’ know exactly. I want to be excited, but all I keep rememberin’ is how excited we were before. And how I don’ know if I can take another heartbreak like that.” She’s twisting her hands, fidgeting and trying not to stare at any one thing for too long.

While he would be a lying fool to say that he wasn’t just a tad bit scared as well, Macintosh also could not deny the fluttering in his stomach at the thought of getting to be a father; of Merida getting to be a mother (he knew without a doubt that she would be a magnificent mother).

Mac pulls Merida into his arms, and he can feel the tension leave her body as she breathes into the embrace. “Are ye ok with this? I know we haven’t talked about…about havin’ another child since Eloise.” Her voice catches on the name of their little girl.

He chuckles slightly and presses a chaste, reassuring kiss to her forehead. “My love, there is nothin’ I want more than to have a family with ye. I want to give ye a wee child of yer own. Yes, I am ok with this. More than ok, in fact.” He can feel her smile into the crook of his neck and relief works its way through his muscles.

“We’ll get through this, Merida, just like we do everythin’,” The hope shining on her face as she looks up at him hits him in the stomach – hard - and he is reminded of how lucky he is to be by her side. She presses a kiss to his lips, and they make their way out of the room hand in hand.

\------------

The next seven months pass in a blur of activity (life as a ruler is never relaxing, they know). They are happy, irrevocably so, but as Merida’s stomach swells with life, a tad bit of anxiousness works its way through both of their minds. They never try to dwell on it for too long, but it is always present.

When she goes into labor late one evening, he can see the terror in her eyes plain as day, and he refuses to leave her side. The healers are not necessarily thrilled about having a man in their way, but when they had suggested mayhaps the gent make his leave, Merida’s face had turned to stone-cold terror and Lady Elinor stepped in quickly, saying that Macintosh would be staying firmly put (he has to remember to thank her afterwards).

It is a long and trying twelve hours that follow. Macintosh watches as Merida absorbs every ounce of pain with an air of dignity, and he is blown away by her strength.

But he will never, for as long as he draws breath into his lungs, forget the instant he hears their child’s wailing cries fill the room.

The moment is burned into his mind forever, though slightly surreal. He remembers seeing the healer holding their child – their son, they soon find out – and seeing the tears of joy stream down Merida’s face as she gets to press their child to her heart. The relief in the room is palpable, and it takes only a few seconds for there to not be a dry eye in the entire place. Mac presses his lips to her forehead and her smile radiates up at him, dazzling, if not exhausted.

Merida passes the babe to Mac, and he marvels at the child in his arms – their son, gods – with ten wee fingers and ten tiny toes and eyes a bright green staring back at him. The healer comes over to them (Mac vaguely recognizes as the same healer who was with them the last time, when they had to say goodbye to their little girl, and he sees her grin spread wide across her face) and says she needs to take the babe for a moment – get him cleaned up and weighed and such. Macintosh hands her their little boy, and turns back towards his Merida, who is positively beaming with pride and relief and happiness and a cacophony of other emotions, and he can’t help but feel the same.

When the healer finally comes back to them, their son cradled in her arms, wrapped snugly in a blanket, she gives a small smile and hands their babe to Merida. “Congratulations, yer majesties, you’ve a healthy, beautiful son.” Mac feels the tears stinging his eyes, and he is overwhelmed by the perfection of the life they’ve created.

They are fussed over for the better part of the next hour (well, not so much Macintosh, he just stands at the side of his wife, gazing in awe at their little miracle) until Lady Elinor says they need to give the new family a few minutes to themselves. Everyone clears out until it’s just the three of them.

Quietness is what rings through the room for the first stretch of time– Merida and Macintosh both just staring at their sleeping son, tucked firmly against his mother’s breast.

“He’s perfect, I can’t believe he’s here, and he’s ok,” Merida’s voice is scratchy from lack of use and weariness and unshed tears. “Can ye believe it? We have a son, Mac.” He chuckles at the obvious awe in his wife’s voice, but he can’t quite comprehend it all yet, either.

“Aye, m’dear. He is perfect, just as ye are. Thank ye for makin’ me the happiest man in the world.” His voice catches, traitor tears spring to his eyes, but he doesn’t care a bit. Looking at his little family – a family that years ago he never would have fathomed – he knows that the gods have blessed him beyond his wildest dreams. He leans down, presses his lips to Merida’s, and knows that life is good.


End file.
